


All We Used to Need

by PersephoneJones



Series: The Long Way Home [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Apple Music Festival 2015, Bi!Harry, Blowjobs, Canon Compliant, Cautiously Optimistic Outcome, Closet!Louis, I just really think this needs to happen, M/M, POV Louis, Unresolved Feelings, deep in the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 19:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14171457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephoneJones/pseuds/PersephoneJones
Summary: Harry started to speak, and then faltered. He stared intently at the floor, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his hands. Then he looked up, looked Louis dead in the eye. “Do you remember what I did a few times, to make you feel better, when we lived together?”Or: The one where Louis is poorly on show day, and Harry thinks of something that might make him feel better.(And that leads to a whole mess of feels, but that's a story for another day.)





	All We Used to Need

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all. This is my first fic, so please be kind. It started out as just a fun little one-shot, but then, as I wrote it, it took a turn into the angsty. What can I say, it's been over two years but I'm still working through some stuff, 1D-wise.
> 
> For reference, this is the performance that inspired this work. You might watch it before reading: [ Infinity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6JB1vQZyFA)
> 
> For further viewing, watch this performance, from the same session, and look at Louis' face after the first time Harry sings, "secret little rendezvous." :) [Perfect](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKZvrWBGeyg)

When Louis woke up that morning, he knew there was a problem.

His head was pounding, his nose was stuffy, and his ears were plugged. Louis groaned aloud. One day…this couldn’t have waited one more day, until the Apple Music Festival performance was over and he had a couple days off before the tour resumed. He was completely fucked. He had to perform that night; there was just no getting around it. 

Louis glanced at the clock. 9 a.m. He had seven hours before he had to report to the Roundhouse for pre-show preparations. Right. Time to bring out the big guns and show this virus who was boss.

***********

The virus, as it turned out, was no so easily dominated. A maximum dose of paracetamol, a strong decongestant, and a fat joint had certainly taken the edge off. However, Louis thought ruefully, as he examined his reflection in the dressing room mirror, he definitely was not feeling his healthiest, and it showed. 

As Louis gazed at his pale, slightly clammy reflection, he saw Harry pass by in the background - and then stop dead in his tracks, staring at Louis in the mirror. “Alright, Styles?” Louis said wryly. 

“You don’t look so great, are you well?” Harry asked, brow furrowed, as he stepped closer.

“You sure know how to sweet talk a man,” Louis groused, aggravated that his weakness was so easily perceived.

Harry ignored the snarky comment. “You are ill. Do you…will you be alright to perform?

Louis mustered a smile. “Have no fear, young Harold. They haven’t made a virus yet that can defeat the likes of Louis Tomlinson. I’m ready to put on a show.”

“But you - “

“Now, now. Let’s hear no more about it.” Louis waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t we have people to meet?” 

Harry subsided, and allowed Louis to lead the way down the corridor to the room where they would be meeting various contest winners and VIPs. However, on several occasions during the meet-and-greet, Louis caught Harry eyeing him anxiously, and, several times, Harry looked as though he was about to say something more to Louis, causing Louis to immediately strike up an animated conversation with the person nearest to him.

Finally, all the guests had been met and taken away, and the boys were back in their dressing room for the hour of down time they were allowed before curtain. Harry was still giving Louis the eye, and Louis was attempting to both reassure Harry and disallow any further questioning by being as loud and obnoxious as possible. Louis thought it was working pretty well, until Harry said, “Louis. I need to speak with you. Privately,” loudly enough that everyone in the room turned and looked at him. Well played, Styles. Louis had no choice but to follow him out the door. 

Harry walked, with Louis trailing him, to the end of the corridor, took a right, and walked another ten feet to a door, which he opened. It led to a small office. Harry gestured Louis inside, then closed and locked the door.

Louis looked at Harry, flabbergasted. “What’s this all about, then? Honestly, Harry, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, here. I - “ 

“You aren’t well. I can tell, There’s no use trying to deny it. I’m worried about you being able to perform. We’re just four now, as it is, and if we lose you, it’s going to go poorly.”

“Okay, so what if you’re right?” Louis sputtered. He was annoyed, annoyed at being found out and annoyed at Harry’s calm demeanor and just. Annoyed. “I hardly see what dragging me out of the dressing room and marching me down here is going to accomplish.”

Harry started to speak, and then faltered. He stared intently at the floor, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his hands. Then he looked up, looked Louis dead in the eye. “Do you remember what I did a few times, to make you feel better, when we lived together?”

Louis’ jaw dropped open and his eyes went a bit unfocused as memories came flooding back; memories he’d shoved into the dark recesses of his mind and absolutely did not ever allow to see the light of day; cloaked so completely and thoroughly that he almost, almost could convince himself they never happened. Memories of lying in bed with Harry, of the brush of lips against his, of fumbling hands inside pajama pants, and, twice, Harry, on his knees in front of Louis, while Louis panted and moaned and just allowed himself to feel instead of hiding, always hiding. 

Louis snapped out of his reverie and narrowed his eyes at Harry. “You’re cracked,” he muttered, “and I’m going back to the dressing room.” He turned and reached for the doorknob, but before he could wrench the door open and leave, Harry spoke.

“You liked it. I know you did. And it did help.”

Louis turned around, incredulous. “That was a long time ago, Harry. We can’t just - “

“Why not? Why can’t we ‘just’? We’re adults. We can make our own decisions. And it’s…it’s not wrong, Louis. It’s not shameful. You can let me help you, and it will be okay.” 

Louis wanted to laugh, or tell Harry off. If it had been anyone else, anyone on the planet, Louis would have destroyed him with a sneer and a few choice words. But Harry was standing there, looking vulnerable and confused, and Louis could still see the 17-year-old Harry who had trusted him, looked up to him, loved him. Instead of speaking the “No, absolutely not,” that had formed on his lips, Louis gave a tiny nod. Harry’s face lit up like the sun, but Louis hardly had time to take it in before Harry surged forward and kissed him.

It took Louis by surprise. One moment Harry was a few feet away, and the next, his lips were pressed against Louis’ and his hands were in Louis’ hair, and it was good, so good. And then Harry pulled back a bit and looked Louis in the eyes, and Louis could see the raw emotion etched plainly across Harry’s face, and the last little bit of reserve in Louis broke. He pulled Harry down into another kiss, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck, sliding his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Harry gave a little moan in surprise and Louis felt himself start to harden at the sound. As if he knew what he’d done, Harry reached down and began rubbing Louis’ cock through his jeans, coaxing him to full hardness. All the years of conditioning clamored in Louis’ mind for him to stop this, to walk away and pretend it never happened. But it felt so good, and it was Harry, and Harry loved him and would never hurt him. Harry broke off the kiss and held Louis’ gaze as he reached down and unbuttoned Louis’ jeans. He was giving Louis the chance to say no, but Louis just reached out and traced the line of Harry’s lips with his finger. Harry gave a small sigh and shoved Louis’ jeans and pants down, then dropped to his knees. 

Harry wasted no time. His soft lips wrapped around Louis’ aching dick, and his mouth enveloped Louis in warmth and wetness. Louis gasped involuntarily as Harry began to move. All thoughts of being sick, of the upcoming show, of the reasons why this shouldn’t be happening, were wiped from Louis’ mind. As Harry opened wider and took Louis entirely into his mouth, Louis’ mouth dropped open and his head thumped back against the wall. If it hurt, he didn’t notice. There was nothing, nothing but Harry working Louis’ cock like he was born for it. Louis couldn’t remember why he had ever told Harry to stop, that they couldn’t do this anymore.

Harry pulled off and ran his tongue up the underside of Louis’ dick. He swirled his tongue around the head before taking Louis in again so quickly and deeply that Louis felt himself hit the back of Harry’s throat. Fireworks began shooting off in Louis’ brain. He was openly moaning, fingers entwined in Harry’s curls. Louis tried to keep still but he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking forward in response. Harry felt it, and stilled his head. He grabbed Louis by the hips and tugged to encourage Louis to keep moving. Louis groaned and began fucking into the warm heat of Harry’s mouth. His moans began to form into words, a litany of words that poured from his mouth, unbidden. “Harry…Harry…fuck,” he chanted, “It’s so fucking good, don’t stop, oh god…Harry.”

Louis could feel his orgasm building and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He stopped thrusting and let Harry go back to working his cock. Words had left him and he could only gasp and whimper as the wave crested and he crashed over the edge, coming down Harry’s throat. Louis flattened his hands against the wall behind him and tried to bring his breathing back to normal. Harry pulled off of Louis’ cock, leaned forward, and placed a few, tender kisses on Louis’ hip. Then he stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and, Jesus Christ, if they didn’t have to be on stage in twenty minutes, Louis would have had him again right then and there. 

The boys stared at each other for a few moments before the intensity of Harry’s gaze made Louis drop his eyes. He could feel his cheeks redden and he mumbled, “That was…thanks, Haz. I think that helped.” He couldn't stop the affectionate, old nickname from escaping his lips. Harry searched Louis’ face for something undefinable. His face fell a little when he didn’t see what he was looking for. But Harry leaned forward, gently kissed Louis on the lips, and said, in a voice husky from what he’d just done, “We’d better get back. The lads will be looking for us.” He gave Louis one last, poignant look, full of words left unspoken. Then he turned and walked out of the room. 

Louis pulled his up his jeans, hands shaking a little, then waited a few moments before he, too, exited and walked slowly back toward the dressing room, smoothing his fringe and arranging his clothing, trying to appear that he hadn’t just come so hard his knees nearly gave out . Louis knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid thinking about this. He would have to process everything that had just happened; not just the physical act, but also the long-buried feelings that it had resurrected. For now, though, it would remain a secret, though Liam and Niall both looked at him suspiciously when he entered the room. But they didn't ask questions, and if Louis couldn’t stop sneaking sidelong peeks at Harry the entire time they were on stage; if Harry’s voice was so raspy and wrecked that Liam had to get the crowd to sing Harry’s high notes at the beginning of Infinity; and if Louis couldn't keep himself from breaking into a smile the first time Harry sang about "secret little rendezvous," no one had to know the reason why. Louis didn’t understand what it all meant, himself, but that was alright. He had seen the look on Harry’s face after they’d kissed; had felt the way Harry touched him, and Louis knew he had time to figure it out. Harry would wait for him. He’d been waiting all along.


End file.
